


Guiding Light

by AttackoftheDarkCurses, thebuildingsnotonfire



Series: Attack & Onfire's Equilibrium Series [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Equilibrium Prequel, Gen, Martial Arts, Mentions of Violence, anger issues, kid!Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackoftheDarkCurses/pseuds/AttackoftheDarkCurses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebuildingsnotonfire/pseuds/thebuildingsnotonfire
Summary: “You know what Dojang means? Not sure if I’ve told you yet. We don’t always get into that stuff with White Belts, but it meanshome."A Ben-POV prequel to Equilibrium.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo, Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Attack & Onfire's Equilibrium Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771468
Comments: 21
Kudos: 79
Collections: F@$k Cancer in the Ass (For a Good Cause)





	Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

> Toward the end of writing Equilibrium (if you haven't read it yet, you may want to before reading this), Onfire and I had a list of "deleted scenes" or one-shots we planned to go back and write as add-ons to the main fic, but we were both pretty wrecked when we posted the last chapter. But it's been a year and a half now, so... it seemed like this was a good time to come back to it. <3
> 
> If you have requests for one-shots, let us know in comments.

_“Be courageous and be brave_

_And in my heart you'll always stay_

_Forever young._

_…_

_But whatever road you choose_

_I'm right behind you, win or lose_

_Forever young.”_

_-*-*-_

_Oh, yeah, perfect solution, Leia! Can’t believe I didn’t think of that!_

Sunlight pricked at his eyes. He squeezed them shut, burying his face in a pillow to delay the day. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe it didn’t really happen.

_We’ll just get rid of him!_

Whether from the unexpected sunlight, or something else, tears started to flow, dampening the pillow that wasn’t his.

_Just. Get. Rid. Of. Him._

Ben tried to hold it back. Tried to convince himself it was an awful dream, tried to hold his breath, tried to bite his mouth closed, tried to smother his face into the soft, comfortably worn pillowcase. 

_Let's just get rid of our son, Leia!_

It came out anyway.

He choked on the sob and gave up. Just like his parents. The tears didn’t just flow—they _flooded,_ soaking through the pillowcase. His eyes felt swollen, and the tears felt hot, and they didn’t, _wouldn’t_ stop. They just kept coming and coming until Ben felt like he was gasping for air, sinking into himself and drowning in sadness, aching, and _anger._

It was like the world had turned inside out and started crushing him inside it, not letting him breathe. Like something had sucked all the good out and replaced it with something dark and something that hurt, like everything had spun out of control without him knowing how to fix it.

Ben didn’t hear the creaking of the bedroom door over his own sobbing, and it was only when warm, gentle hands pulled his hands from his face that he opened his eyes.

Uncle Luke’s blue eyes were watery as the man looked down at him. He took a seat on the bed that had only ever been for guests—a bed Ben only slept in on rare nights when his parents both went out of town and he stayed over at Uncle Luke’s. With a shaky breath, the man gave him the one thing Ben didn’t know he was desperate for. Without a word, he pulled Ben into a tight hug.

He was shorter and stockier than Ben’s father. His facial scruff more forest brush than Han’s grizzle, and he was infinitely more unfamiliar, but familiarity was gone, back in a house that was no longer home and a family that was no longer his.

Luke’s embrace heralded a fresh wave of tears, but he didn’t chide Ben for crying. The man held him close, patted his back, and murmured, “I know, kid. I know.”

It seemed to go on for ten or twenty minutes, maybe longer, but his uncle didn’t waver. He stayed the way he’d always been—sturdy, caring, and _there._ Ben only saw him a few times a week for Taekwondo lessons, but he was always there, always ready with a disapproving shake of his head and a little first-aid followed by milkshakes and a few burgers at Maz’s whenever Ben showed up after school with a new bruise or scrape from a fight. 

“I’ve got you,” Luke sighed. “You feel like talking about it?”

Ben sniffed, shaking his head against his uncle’s shoulder.

Luke nodded, as if he expected that answer. “Okay. How about this? If we can talk about it for a few minutes, you and I can spend the day doing whatever you want. We can walk to the bookstore. Maybe stop in for a few burgers, too? Maz’s been complaining she hasn’t seen you enough lately. Maybe we can go say hi? You just… need to talk to me first. I heard one side of things, but you and I need to talk, too.”

“We can’t,” Ben choked out. “We can’t, I don’t want to.”

Luke’s voice was soft but firm as he asked, “Why not?”

Ben pushed away, scooting back against the bed’s headboard, and pulled his knees up to his chest. He buried his face in them, hiding the ugliness hovering just beneath the surface of his skin. Every part of him resonated as he pleaded, “ _Stop.”_

“Ben.” It was in that voice Luke used for upper belts when they got distracted and started goofing off during practice. “I just want to talk with you. Listen to what you have to say. I know you’re upset, but don’t you think it’d be nice to talk it out?”

“No,” Ben said—begged, maybe—his voice cracking. “We _can’t.”_

“Why—”

“Because then you won’t want me either!” he snarled. His sight blurred further, and he was grateful for it. He didn’t want to see how Luke looked at him. “Because you’ll send me somewhere, too!”

For a long, terrible stretch of time, his uncle said nothing. He just stared. As seconds passed, and as Ben’s vision cleared, he saw more and more age lines define themselves in his uncle’s face.

When did Uncle Luke get old? When did his parents stop wanting him? Was it after the first fight? The second? The twelfth?

“Oh, kid,” Luke breathed out. “No. No, I won’t. Never.” The man reached out, grabbing Ben’s hand, and squeezed it. “You’re allowed to be angry, Ben. I know things aren’t working out between you and your parents, but I’m here. I’m not leaving, and neither are you.”

Ben wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, wiping stray tears. Everything hurt in that way he’d gotten painfully familiar with in the last twenty-four hours, but looking at Luke he could almost believe it hurt a little less now.

“You promise?”

Luke nodded, his own eyes glassy, and said, in a harsh and aggrieved voice, “Yeah, Ben. I promise.” 

He paused, wiping at his eyes with a free hand, and cleared his throat. “You know what _Dojang_ means? Not sure if I’ve told you yet.” 

He didn’t continue, which Ben took as signal that he was actually having a conversation, and not just lecturing like he did when teaching. Ben shook his head, tentative, not trusting himself just yet after Luke’s unbelievable promise.

“We don’t always get into that stuff with White Belts, but it means _home._ This—” he gestured to the guest room and the apartment beyond it, “This will always be a home for you. Whenever you need it. You’re always going to have a family here. I know it won’t always be easy. I won’t lie to you kid,” he added wearily, “We’re going to need to work on your anger issues, especially if you want to keep learning Taekwondo. But… that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Ben took a moment to wipe his eyes again and brush the hair from his face. Hesitation rose up but he spoke before he lost his courage. “It was another fight.”

“Thought so,” Luke said, squeezing his hand. “Any particular reason for this one?”

Ben shrugged and winced at the way his uncle sighed.

But then Luke said something Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever heard.

“You’re a good kid, Ben. I know you, I know you’re angry, and I know you feel like your parents don’t care, but here—” he jabbed a finger at Ben’s chest, “In there, under all of that, you’re _good._ ”

His voice was thick when he whispered, “You really think so?”

“I do, yeah,” Luke nodded. “But I don’t just think it. I _know_ it.”

“But my parents… they said I’m too angry, and my teacher—she… she said I was bad, she said I was too much trouble, and—”

“I know what they said,” Luke interrupted quietly. “We talked, I heard all about it. It’s not okay to get in fights, but you aren’t the only twelve-year-old who’s ever felt like this. We’re going to work on it, okay? I’m going to help you.”

Ben stayed silent for a while, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Everything inside felt sharp and hot and volatile and not all of it was bad, but most of it wasn’t good either. One more chance. One more chance. Luke was offering so much more than he seemed to realize that Ben thought he must be making a mistake.

_Get rid of him!_

Something lonely and angry at his core loosened. Luke was here. Han wasn’t. That was the difference.

“Ben?”

Diving forward, Ben caught the man in a hug. Tears, sweat and snot spilled onto shoulder of his uncle’s shirt as Luke hugged him tight. His hugs were always tight. Always warm and safe.

“You want some breakfast?” Luke offered up. His voice was muffled against the side of Ben’s head. “Can’t say I’m a good cook, but I can manage some toast. Maybe some eggs? Oatmeal?”

He didn’t reply, but his uncle leaned back a little, glancing around at the guest bedroom. “I’m probably not the best decorator, either. If you’re going to live here, we’ll have to fix it up a bit for you.” Watery blue eyes landed back on him, and Luke murmured, “What do you say, kid? You want to live here? I can’t promise it’ll be easy. Can’t promise we’ll always get along, but you’ll always have a home here, if you want it.”

The offer was like a hand, held out to him while he was gripping the edge of a cliff, trying not to fall. Like someone reaching out to him while he was struggling to tread water.

Ben managed a nod, and the aching ball of hurt inside quietened one _tiny_ bit more.

_-*-*-_

“No.”

“Ben—”

 _“No._ I don’t want them there. _”_

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at himself in the Dojang’s mirrored wall. His legs were folded in front of him, in a sitting position his uncle said was good for meditation, but Ben still didn’t feel calm _._

His eyes only flicked over to his uncle’s reflection when the man sighed. “Kid, it’s your first promotion. I know they’d love to see it. Might not seem like a big deal to you now, but someday you’re going to look back, and this promotion might mean a lot to you. Are you _sure_ you don’t want to invite them?”

Ben shook his head.

Why would they care about watching him kick and punch, when it was stuff like that that got him sent away in the first place? Why’d they want to see him break wood with his fists, when all they’d think is how he’d done the same to other kids?

Luke sighed again in that special disappointed way of his. “Okay. But if you change your mind, that’s okay, too. If you decide you want to invite them, you’ll tell me, right?”

Despite the nod he gave, Ben knew he wouldn’t change his mind.

Ben didn’t change his mind in the last practice before promotion—the one where Master Luke (as he was in the Dojang) made him go over his first poomse over and over again until Ben thought he’d drop from exhaustion. He didn’t change his mind later that night, when his uncle sat across from him at their booth at Maz’s and told Ben he was proud of him—in the three weeks he’d been living with Uncle Luke, he’d stayed out of fights. He didn’t change his mind the next morning, when his stomach was flipping and turning with nerves, making the eggs and toast Uncle Luke made turn to dust in his mouth.

He didn’t change his mind when they bowed in and began basic combinations of the few kicks, blocks, and punches he knew, and he didn’t change his mind when he and his small white belt class successfully completed their poomse. He didn’t change his mind when his tightened fist went clear through a board.

The yellow belt Master Luke handed him at the end of the day was stiff, hard to tie like his white belt had been when it was fresh from its package. He didn’t get the ends as even as a couple of his Dojang-mates had, but he _tied_ it, and without anyone’s help.

It felt like a step to something better, a step closer to being _good_ , to making someone proud.

He didn’t change his mind… not until the cheering started from the small audience that had gathered in the Dojang’s seating area. All around him, his Dojang-mates were grinning and _happy,_ and despite knowing they weren’t there, Ben scanned the small group of parents, grandparents, and siblings.

Something sunk in his chest. 

The sounds around him died down, muffled while some sullen shadow crept over him. Of course they weren’t there. He hadn’t invited them, and they wouldn’t have come anyway, and they wouldn’t have _cared,_ they wouldn’t have—

“Hey, kid,” a soft voice spoke up. 

Ben’s attention snapped to the man in front of him—the man with a knowing, sad smile. Master Luke reached out and gripped his shoulders, squeezing comfortingly.

“I’m proud of you,” his uncle nodded. “You did good, Ben.”

Staring at the floor, Ben murmured, “Thanks, Uncle Luke.”

“Hey, look at me, kid. You know you did well, right? You believe me when I say I’m proud of you?”

Ben’s gaze flashed up to his uncle’s, finding a genuine fond smile on the man’s face.

“Yes, sir.”

_-*-*-_

The principal’s office at the high school was nicer than the one at the middle school. It was cleaner, fewer stacks of paper crowding every surface. It was bright and sunny, and something in him wanted to swipe the little potted plants and framed pictures clear off his principal’s desk. He wanted to pick up her _stupid_ little trinkets and toss them at a window, shatter them in his hands, because he’d gone a whole two years at this school without seeing this office.

It didn’t help that he’d seen much less of Amilyn Holdo after his stay at the Dojang turned permanent. She was his parent’s friend and seeing her again brought back memories he’d hoped to have faded by now.

“I suppose you can guess why I’ve asked you to meet with me,” Principal Holdo started, glancing at the man sitting next to Ben. “I know this morning was really a first offense, but I’m aware of the issues Ben had in his previous schools, and I thought it would be best to address what happened this morning head-on before anything gets out of hand.”

He didn’t miss this part. The talking about him like he wasn’t sitting in a chair in the same room, wearing the floor and the sole of his shoes as he scuffed his heel against it in frustration.

Luke didn’t say anything, but Ben knew he was observing him out of the corner of his eyes, cataloging everything he could. The redness creeping up the sides of his neck, the way his whole body felt primed and tense like an animal on display. The faint bruising along the outer edge of his right hand, along with the scratches and cuts that came with colliding with the sidewalk.

“He deserved—”

Holdo held up a hand, and Ben shut up. “I’m sure you had your reasons,” she said, “but why don’t you let me finish?”

Ben bristled, swallowing the urge to snap at her, tell her she knew _nothing_ about his previous issues, not with this desk between her and the rest of the school.

“I’d like to put the past behind us,” she sighed. She clasped her hands together, tilting her head at him. “I’m a big believer in the idea that people can change and grow, and I don’t think you’ll do either while we assume the worst of you. But let me be clear. I _cannot_ condone fighting, no matter who starts it, and no matter what the reasoning is. We have a zero-tolerance policy for this, and whether you had a good reason, you still got involved.”

Ben could see how she was friends with his parents with an answer like that. _Bullshit._

Next to him, Luke let out a tired sigh. “Can one of you fill me in? I’m afraid this is the first I’m hearing of this. It’s been a while since I’ve been called to a Principal’s office.”

“Ben?” Principal Holdo nodded. “Why don’t you go ahead.”

He tried to breathe, a slow inhale on a count, and a slower exhale, like Uncle Luke taught him. It didn’t help much with the snarling storm inside him, but at least he stopped shaking with how pissed off he was. His jaw hurt from how hard he’d been clenching it, but after a few seconds of rough breathing he managed to sound semi-human.

“I _didn’t_ start it. One of the guys in study hall got in my face—I don’t know why, it was something stupid— kept saying I wouldn’t hit him.”

Luke raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “So you proved him wrong?”

“No! No, it’s just—” Ben ran his hand through his hair, catching sight of where the other guy had managed to dig his own fingers into his wrist. “—it’s like, he’s standing over me, and he’s talking shit, and he’s just some stupid fuck and everyone’s looking and—”

He trailed off, unable to put words to the split-second decision that he didn’t even remember making. He remembered the _before,_ when the other guy had been so close he could smell his lunch on his breath, and the _after,_ the brief flash of delight as he’d uppercut the guy, the _click_ as teeth snapped shut and the _yank_ as his arm was pulled down. The scuffle of teeth, rage, and old instincts always on the peripheral of Ben’s awareness.

“And you thought that was a reason to hit him?” Luke groaned. “Oh, kid.”

Ben huffed. “He’s a dick, he deserved it.”

“Could we please refrain from name-calling in my office?” Principal Holdo asked dryly. “I understand you felt provoked, but again, we have a zero-tolerance policy. Since this is your first offense here at the high school, we’re looking at a one-week suspension. If you keep this up, provoked or not, we’ll need to discuss expulsion.” She paused, her voice softening. “I don’t want it to get to that point, Ben. You’ve been a great student since you started here, and your Junior year is _not_ a good time to let things spiral out of control.” Her gaze drifted over to his uncle. “Are you able to take him home? We can begin his suspension today. His teachers have already dropped off assignments for him to work on,” she mentioned, gesturing to the single small stack of papers at the edge of her desk.

“Of course,” Luke nodded. “Thank you, Principal Holdo.”

“Amilyn is fine.”

Ben dug his short, blunt nails into his palm to keep from knocking the papers off her desk.

That feeling didn’t fade, even as he stalked out of the school with Luke as his side. It didn’t even fade when they got into the Dojang, and Ben realized his uncle must have canceled one of his daytime fitness classes to get to the high school.

Once they got into the building, all Luke said was, “My office.”

Ben followed him in, feeling little crescent marks burning in his palm. Still, he dutifully took a seat across the desk from his uncle. The man was quiet for a little bit, and then finally said, “Ben, you know hitting your classmate wasn’t okay. You’ve been doing _so_ well.”

“He deserved it,” Ben insisted. “He was being an asshole, he practically dared me to hit him!”

“I understand that, but I _also_ understand that by the time a person is a Black Belt candidate, they shouldn’t be punching people who piss them off.” Luke stopped and wiped a hand down his face. “That… that’s probably something we should talk about, Ben. I’m sure you know you’re eligible to test for your Black Belt at sixteen, but you’re not ready, kid. It’s not personal, and I’d make the same decision for anyone in your shoes, nephew or not. I’m going to need to see at least a few more Bo Dan stripes before we can re-evaluate whether you’re ready.”

 _“What?_ Just because of _one_ punch? That’s not fair!”

It wasn’t one punch. Ben could barely remember through the crimson fog lingering on the memory, but he remembered cuss words and screams and someone—many someones—pulling Ben off the kid that looked more miserable than threatening. Ben had done that. Him.

“I’m sure it feels that way now,” Luke nodded, but that just made it worse. “If yelling at me makes you feel better, fine. You don’t need to like that choice, and you don’t even have to like me. You _do_ have to respect me.”

Ben let out something akin to a snarl, then swiped his arm out, knocking a stack of forms off his uncle’s desk. “ _Stop_ parenting me. You’re not my father!”

For a long moment, Luke only looked down at the desk. When he spoke again, his voice was thick. “Yeah, Ben, I know. I’m not your father, but I _do_ love you like you’re my son. So when I say you’re grounded, know that it’s because I know you’re better than this. When I say I need to see more promotions, know that it’s only because I have your best interests at heart.”

Ben grit his teeth. “Stop it. Stop acting like you aren’t mad at me! Stop acting like you care, like I’m not just some massive burden!”

“I’m not mad at you. You have never been a burden, and I love you. Do I want you to find a better direction for all that anger? Of course. Do I wish you’d show me more respect? Yes, absolutely, especially while we’re in the Dojang. But I have never and will never expect perfection from you, Ben. My love for you doesn’t depend on you being perfect and happy all the time. You’re angry? That’s okay. You’re allowed to be. You’re _allowed_ to need to punch something. Just tell me so I can hold a punching bag for you.”

They both went quiet. Ben folded his arms over his chest, glowering down at the desk in front of him.

Luke cleared his throat. “You have a choice, Ben. I’ll love you no matter what you decide. This will be your home, no matter what you decide. You can either accept my requirements, continue training, and make an effort to show me and this Dojang more respect, or you can quit. I hope you don’t—I think you’ve got a hell of a talent for Taekwondo—but training is always your choice. That being said, if you want to continue training, I need you to respect me and my decisions.”

The anger burned inside him, but his stomach turned at the thought of quitting.

“What do you think, kid?” his uncle asked softly. “Do you want to keep training?”

He took in a deep breath, slowly counting out the exhale.

“Yes, sir.”

_-*-*-_

Just like before every promotion he’d ever had, the night before his Black Belt promotion, Luke gave him _that look_ over dinner. After so many years of living together, learning together, and working through things together, Ben had come to know the man better than anyone else. So after private senior testing ended and Luke dragged him to Maz’s for their traditional pre-promotion dinner, Ben expected this look, and the conversation that always followed it.

“You know, Black Belt is a big deal,” Luke started. His tone was casual, light, like he was trying to sneak this conversation in without Ben knowing it. “I know you plan to keep training, but this promotion… it’s a big one. It’s the culmination of a lot of hard work.”

Ben didn’t bother interjecting with the point that it was the culmination of a lot _more_ hard work than most put in, given how many times Luke held him back, and given all the private lessons he’d required to help Ben work through… a lot. Pointing out any of that would just give Luke more fodder for the argument he was about to make.

Instead, he tried to joke, hoping it would discourage what the man was about to say. “Trying to make me nervous, sir?”

“We both know I’m not,” Luke sighed. He put down his grilled cheese, which meant he was _serious._ “Look, Ben, you’re in college now, and I know you plan on still training—and I hope you do—but as time goes on, your classes, and eventually your job, might take up more time than you expect. You might transfer out of this area. You might pick up a new hobby, who knows? I’m just trying to say, for all either of us know, this could be your last big promotion. Are you _sure_ you don’t want to invite them? Just so they can see it?”

“I’m sure. And it won’t be my last promotion, Master Luke.” 

“Well, you say that _now,_ but—”

Ben interrupted him, letting his burger drop back to his plate. He gave his uncle a _look,_ and then admitted to the one thing he’d barely dared admit to himself.

“I won’t stop training. _Ever._ I want to help you teach, sir.”

It usually took a lot to surprise Grand Master Luke Skywalker. The man’s reflexes—both physical and mental—were nearly prescient, but at Ben’s admission, he looked like he’d been utterly shocked.

“You… want to teach,” he repeated slowly. “Teach _Taekwondo?”_

Ben took a breath, finally deciding to be honest with both himself, and the man across from him. “Eventually. I know there’s a lot to learn, both about Taekwondo, and running a business, but I thought if I kept training, and finished my degree—that’s why I’m majoring in business studies—I… thought maybe I could help with the Dojang. Someday.”

He’d seen a lot of Luke’s moods. He’d seen the man hurt, sad, elated, nervous—a whole spectrum of his moods and reactions, but the one he saw now wasn’t a familiar one. 

Luke’s eyes widened, his breath coming in shaky, and he blinked like he was trying not to cry.

“Assuming you’d be okay with it,” Ben blurted.

The man’s mouth curled up slowly. “Okay with it?” he breathed. “I’d be honored. I mean, you’re right, there’s a lot to learn. A lot of philosophy, more promotions, more about the business, of course, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get started.”

It was impossible not to smile back. “I’d like that.”

For a moment, they just sat there in peace, but Luke _had_ to try it again. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to invite them? Testing for your Black Belt… it’s a big deal, Ben. It really is. You really don’t want your parents there?”

A small surge of anger bubbled up in him, but it was clear just by the look on Luke’s face that he’d meant well.

Ben sighed. 

“My parent _will_ be there, Master Luke. The person who raised me, the person who loves me. He _will_ be there. Just like he always is.”

His uncle sniffed, then grumbled, “Don’t assume that means I’ll take it easy on you tomorrow.”

Ben’s mouth quirked. “Yes, sir.”

_-*-*-_

He stood in front of the two-story brick building he’d long past escaped from, grimacing at it. It was like choosing to walk back into a circle of hell—a place where one of the only good parts was a too-kind lavender-haired principal with too much patience for angry little brats. 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Ben sighed, staring at the building.

“Hey now, _you’re_ the one crazy enough to want to help me run the Dojang,” his uncle laughed. “You’re a second Dan now, Ben. Get used to it. It won’t all be sparring with your Dojangmates and going to competitions.” He gestured toward the open car trunk. “You going to help me with these? _Helping_ means helping set up, not just joining in when the other students get here.”

Ben turned, glad for the excuse to take his eyes off the high school, and he held out both hands to grab for the giant stack of pine boards for breaking. “Do we know how many high schoolers are showing up for the demo?”

“Not sure,” Luke shrugged. “Amilyn said this was going on during an activity fair. So it won’t be _all_ the students, but anyone looking for an after school activity might pop in. You know the drill. We’ll get a little crowd, a hundred, maybe. I’ll disavow them of their Karate-Kid comparisons, talk a little philosophy, we’ll show them some cool stuff, and we’ll get… oh, I don’t know. Maybe two or three new students? More, if it goes well?”

He hefted a bag of sparring gear over his shoulder, then shut the trunk of his ancient car with a bit of a slam. They turned from the car, and Ben followed his uncle’s lead toward the school.

“Seems like a lot of effort for a few new students.”

His uncle hummed. “Is it? I don’t know.”

“Oh?”

Luke stopped midway to the school and turned to give him a smile. “You never know, kid. Maybe nobody will sign up, but it’s worth trying. Taekwondo changed your life, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Ben admitted. “Yeah, of course it did.”

His uncle’s mouth tilted up into a smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to try and pay that forward? Maybe help change someone else’s life?”

Sometimes Luke said things that made it crystal clear, why he was a Master. Sometimes, in the blink of an eye, the man went from frustrating to… _wise._ Wise, and kind, and so many things Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

The idea that he could ever do for another person what Luke did for him seemed impossible. But then again, there was once a time when he thought breaking a board would be impossible. There was once a time when promoting seemed impossible, and a time when becoming a Black Belt felt forever out of reach.

So for now, Ben only smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, sir. I’d like that very much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Expect to see more one-shots from us--another one is being edited, and a third is in progress.
> 
> Onfire isn't on Twitter, but I am:  
> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)  
> 


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